


Fire and rain now

by Whiterabbit11



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Courtship, Courtship Gifts, Draco is practical, Fluff, Future Mpreg, Gen, Happy Ending, Harry is useless, Harry nearly lost his chance, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Mpreg, Powerful Harry, SO MUCH FLUFF, Teddy is sweet, Top Harry, courtship fic, mention of MPREG, you know me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 03:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiterabbit11/pseuds/Whiterabbit11
Summary: Draco is going through some rubbish formal pureblood courtship thing, and Harry is late as usual.





	Fire and rain now

**Author's Note:**

> Another fluff-fest from me! I keep jumping around with the POV in this one, lets pretend that didn't happen ok? 
> 
> Title is from one of my all-time favourite songs, Fire and Rain by James Taylor.

Draco sighed softly and got to his feet. He stood with his parents on a slightly raised dais in the grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor, dressed in his finest dress robes to show him off to greatest advantage. His long hair had been brushed to a platinum sheen and braided back. With his silvery robes, Draco knew he made a pretty picture. Ethereal, his mother had said approvingly. Narcissa and Lucius both wore black, to help Draco stand out even more. All three maintained a mask of stoic good breeding and elegance as befitted the Malfoys, though Draco knew his parents had been really anticipating this day, and had planned for it carefully. He wished he could share their enthusiasm. He looked over the suitors who had turned up to vie for the hand of the richest young man in wizarding England, and suppressed an eye roll.

Due to his pureblood breeding, Draco was a Bearer, one who could carry babies and provide an heir. Being the only heir to the Malfoys wealth was an even greater bonus. So when Draco’s parents decided it was time to find a husband for their twenty-three year old son, there had been many applicants. Draco had excused himself from the preliminary culling of letters and resumes. His Slytherin friends hadn’t been surprised. They knew Draco’s own preferences weren’t going to play much part in this betrothal. However, his newer Gryffindor friends, unused to the world of pure bloods, didn’t understand why Draco was so detached from the process that would see him tied for life to someone else. Draco had had many, many arguments on the matter with Harry, mostly in an undertone while they wrangled little Teddy.

Thinking of Teddy made Draco peer over those assembled, searching for a flash of turquoise hair. He found Teddy clutching Andromeda’s hand towards the side of the dias, looking bored out of his brains but valiantly trying to be good. Near him stood Hermione Granger, seemingly cataloging everything happening around her with avid interest. A smattering of Harry’s other friends were in attendance also, though Draco knew Harry himself had been sent on a longer recognizance mission for the Aurors with Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. He wasn’t precisely worried because there should be no danger, but he was somewhat uneasy as he always was when Harry was away.

Teddy waved at Draco despondently. He did not approve of Draco marrying, and had made his feelings very clear on the topic. He was worried, and rightly so, that his favourite cousin would be taken away from him and his godfather.

After the war, amongst all the chaos and uncertainty that ensued, both Harry and Draco had found real solace and healing in helping to raise Teddy. Draco readily admitted that the boy was the highlight of his life, and he thought Potter felt the same way. They spent a lot of time together, making sure Teddy had the kind of happy, relaxed, safe childhood that neither of them had got. And in this time, they had somehow become the sort of friends who discussed each other’s personal lives. When Potter realised he was bi a couple of years ago, Draco was one of the first people he told. Draco was still proud of his own stoicism when Potter promptly went on a bender of shagging everyone he could get his hands on. Draco himself was staying pure for marriage, as was expected of one in his position. It was pretty miserable most of the time, but Draco had got used to seeing the man he adored in the papers with one floozy or another on his arm. He comforted himself with a knowledge that those people never got to see the Harry he did. They never saw him exhausted and bleary-eyed, rocking a crying baby for hours on end. They never saw him in ugly swimming shorts with sunburn on his broad shoulders, running into the surf with a squealing toddler in his arms. They never saw him in a ratty tshirt, batter in his hair, teaching Teddy to make pancakes. These memories were for Draco, and if he kept them close and precious in his heart, that was no one’s business. Certainly nothing his future husband need know. Harry wasn’t interested in him, and that was his choice entirely. Draco knew so much of Harry’s life had been beyond his control, had been chosen for him even before he could speak. He would not even talk to Harry about his feelings, despite urging from Pansy and Blaise, and on one mortifying occasion, Greg. He told his friends that being with Harry and Teddy together was enough, that it was a glimpse of a life that he would never really have for his own, and that he would not risk losing that for the world.

Draco knew that the man his parents chose for him would want a trophy, a show-piece. Someone beautiful and clever, to make beautiful, clever babies. Someone elegant and reserved who would never embarrass or surprise his husband, and whose wealth would complement his own riches. They would probably be related, wizarding England being small as it was, but hopefully not too related. Draco smothered a moue of distaste. Marrying a cousin hadn’t worked out so badly for his parents, he supposed, but it just didn’t appeal to him. Probably because his relatives were either dead, in Azkaban, or totally chinless. Urgh.

Draco had already endured evenings in the company of each of the final three men his parents had selected. None of them were under forty, and the oldest of all was Marion Selwyn. He was an old mentor of his father, and Draco was undeniably creeped out to think of Selwyn watching him grow up, plotting this day. He knew his mother felt the same way about it, but his father may yet be swayed. His chaperoned dinner with Selwyn had been a slow, formal, boring affair. Draco thought bitterly that his youth and beauty would be wasted on a man who saw him mostly as a baby-making machine. Still, such an elderly husband could be expected to shuffle off this mortal coil sooner rather than later. Dispassionately, Draco reminded himself that he was very lucky to have Blaise Zabini for a best friend. Indeed, Blaise was circulating in the ballroom, subtly eyeing up Selwyn. Blaise was already a widower at twenty-three, his much-older wife having unfortunately passed away through entirely natural causes. Draco comforted himself that Selwyn probably also had plenty of perfectly normal ailments that may turn urgent at any moment.

Phillipe Travers was another matter entirely. Draco had no doubt the ageing lothario’s faithfulness would barely extend past the honeymoon. He was still handsome of course, still obscenely rich, but all his conversation was to do with gossip and the pursuits of the idle rich. Draco himself was very rich and pretty idle, but he could see that he would be bored and irritated beyond belief with this one. Plus, he was likely to be an embarrassing family member, which the Malfoys could not afford. Draco didn’t think his father would choose Travers, no matter his wealth and standing. Their dinner had been mortifying. Travers had kept trying to get rid of their house-elf chaperone, so that he and Draco could have some ‘alone time’. His greedy eyes ran over Draco like he owned him. Luckily, Mipsy had been Draco’s elf since birth and took her duties very seriously. She had watched over her charge with a beady eye and Draco had escaped unmolested. Now he suppressed a shudder while avoiding Travers’ gaze.

Christoph Fawley was probably the front runner for Draco, if only because of his slight resemblance to the real object of his affections. He was tall and swarthy, strong and bright-eyed, with a booming voice. The owner of the Appleby Arrows, he was quite mad about Quidditch and Draco found it relatively easy to talk about that for hours. He could see how a marriage to Fawley could work. He wasn’t as wealthy as the others, but Draco was confident in his own money-management skills. He wasn’t just decorative, after all, and he thought they could make a successful team. At forty-three, Fawley was also the youngest of the suitors, and was under immense pressure from his family to marry. Another thing they had in common. Their dinner had been light-hearted and almost fun, with banter that fell just short of truly riveting, and a gentle kiss at the end which lacked excitement but was certainly bearable.

If Draco found himself wishing for burnt pancakes and jam-smeared grins, or experimental curries made together while singing along to Muggle music, well, he was able to brush the longing aside with the ease of long practice.

^^^^

Lucius called for attention. He explained that the three men before the gathered assemblage had been courting his son, Draco Malfoy, with a view to marriage. They had proven to Lucius that they could keep Draco in the style to which he was accustomed, and that their intentions were honourable. Draco couldn’t help eyeing Travers sourly at that, and only received a lascivious wink for his trouble. Lucius hurried on to say that after spending some time with Draco, it was now time for the suitors to present their courting gifts. As per tradition, the gifts should follow the themes of earth, wind, fire and water. The gifts brought by the chosen suitor would then form part of the marriage ceremony, bonding Draco and his betrothed.

The guests surged forward with interest. Near the dais were three large tables with mysterious cloth draping over them, hiding the gifts underneath. Each suitor took up a place near his own table, and Selwyn and Travers looked pleased with this opportunity to show off their wealth and taste. Fawley looked equal parts embarrassed and bored, which endeared him to Draco further. With a wave of Lucius’ wand, the cloths disappeared, and the crowd said ‘ooh’ dutifully. Beautifully arranged on the tables, among displays of expensive blooms, sweets and glassware, were the gifts. Draco’s eyebrows rose a little, and even Narcissa gave the softest of gasps. Lucius maintained a poker face, but Draco suspected he, too, was impressed. The Malfoys descended from the dais to examine the gifts.

Draco wasn’t entirely sure how each gift matched the elements, but there were certainly four on each table. Precious gemstones twinkled in huge, showy jewelry. Ancient faerie-made wine rested carefully wrapped in cotton wool. Two of the very latest brand-new racing brooms – Draco couldn’t help a little smile at that, and he and Fawley exchanged a look of amusement at this ‘romantic’ offering. There was a jeweled diorama on one table, and Draco was made to understand that Selwyn was offering him a Greek island. The Malfoys already had one, but Draco supposed it was always nice to have a matching pair. The crowd certainly loved it. Draco noticed Blaise edging closer to take a good look at the diorama, then turn to Selwyn with a dazzling smile. Both Draco and Narcissa smoothly moved Lucius away from that table. Neither of them had any intention of getting between Blaise and his prize. Draco vaguely hoped the island had air conditioning.

Travers’ offering included many trappings of a rich and spoiled scion of a good family. Jewelry, impressive property holdings, and a small yacht. Nothing that Draco did not already own, so he knew he could manage this portfolio easily.

Fawley’s table had more Quidditch paraphernalia, including season tickets to every league in Europe. Lucius sniffed that he wasn’t sticking to the theme, but Narcissa offered some kind conversation. Draco found a genuine smile for him, and knew his parents noted that along with everything else.

The Malfoys cast a last look at where Selwyn was deep in conversation with Blaise. The younger man looked positively enthralled, a performance that Draco knew was leagues better than his own. He gave a minute head shake to his parents, and all three smoothly ascended the dais again. The crowd had also backed away from Blaise and Selwyn, and the choice was obviously between Travers and Fawley. Draco looked over at Andromeda and Teddy again. Teddy looked anxious, and Andromeda too looked subdued. She knew none of this was Draco’s precisely choice, but that it was his choice to follow his parents’ wishes for an arranged marriage for him. She managed a small smile at Narcissa and nodded slightly towards Fawley. The best of a bad bunch. Draco had to agree.

Lucius raised his voice again. “Thank you to all of you who have come to help us celebrate today, and to the suitors. Their gifts are truly spectacular, and we thank them for their offers. Our only son is very precious to us, and we are glad they take this event seriously. We will of course deliberate for three days and nights as dictated by tradition, and make our choice known through the prophet to the populace.” Draco could feel a migraine coming on. What a load of codswallop, he thought, suddenly exhausted. He didn’t want to marry any of these men. There was nothing wrong with any of them as such, but nothing really right either. He watched dully as his father raised a firecracker to symbolize the ending of the courtship period. When it stopped sparkling, Draco’s time was up. Narcissa lit the cracker with her wand, and it floated high overhead, sending up a shower of silver sparks. It burned for a few moments while the audience gazed at it. There was a low hum of chatter, and the sounds of the Manor floo firing. Perhaps some people were already leaving this tedious event, thought Draco.

Suddenly the sparks turned from silver to gold. The fire cracker stilled, seemingly frozen in time. Gasps sounded all around, and while the Malfoys looked at each other in astonishment, Draco realised the crowd was parting.

Through the throng marched Harry Potter, one hand casually raised to disappear the fire cracker. He was in his Auror uniform, though it was filthy and battered. There was a tear in one sleeve and there appeared to be burns on the other shoulder. His face was dirty with soot, and his hair was sticking up on one side. Behind him came Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom, equally battered. Even at this distance, Draco was aware of the faint scent of smoke, but that didn’t stop him and Teddy from flying to Harry’s side. He was aware that Hermione and that girl Neville had been seeing rushed forward also, and he could hear the gossip mill starting to churn around them. Teddy threw himself into Harry’s arms, and, uncaring of the audience, Draco started running diagnostic spells on Harry. Nothing was seriously injured, bar a light burn on one shoulder that he knew Harry would try to brush off without treatment. Harry grinned at him around a face full of Teddy’s hair which was rapidly turning into black curls. It blurred into the handsome beard that Harry seemed to have grown in his fortnight away. Behind him, Narcissa was ordering chairs, water, and dittany for the returning Aurors. The avidly watching crowd was pushed back a little. Draco urged Harry to remove his torn Auror robes, revealing a filthy, burned shirt beneath. Ron and Neville weren’t in much better shape. “Why on earth didn’t you go to Mungos?” demanded Hermione in shrill tones, and Draco had to agree. To his surprise, Harry blushed at the question, and both Ron and Neville looked at him scathingly.

“Lover boy insisted we try to get here before Malfoy was married off,” taunted Ron, and Harry groaned. Draco gaped at him, even as both his mother and Andromeda gave little squeals of delight.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered to the world at large, and then struggled to stand up with Teddy still clinging to his neck. He waved away the elf bearing water for him, and squared up to Lucius. “Am I too late to throw my hat in the ring?” he asked roughly. Draco was still shocked, the tumble of thoughts in his head so confused that when his father looked to him, he could only stare back dumbly. Lucius then looked to his wife to find her beaming with more enthusiasm than he had seen for years. He quickly turned back and tried to be as impressive as he had been before Potter came marching in.

“Ahem,” he said importantly. “This is all highly irregular, Potter,” he admonished. “The other suitors have been in talks with us for months! They have spent time with Draco…”

“Harry spends lots of time with Draco!” interrupted Teddy loudly, from his position around Harry’s neck. “And I’m the sharper-roone,” he finished proudly.

Lucius seemed a little lost for words at that, but luckily Draco finally pulled himself together. “Harry, what is going on,” he asked, pressing closer. Harry’s eyes were unusually shy, and behind him Ron and Neville were snickering.

“He’s been a right berk through this whole thing,” said Neville, before gulping water and accepting the ministrations of the pretty girl beside him.

“Finally realised while we were away, that he should have put in to be a suitor,” finished Ron helpfully. “We’ve only been telling him for months.” He shared a look with Hermione and gratefully grabbed his own water glass.

Draco looked at Harry again, to find that he was gazing back with the softest expression Draco had ever seen on the other man. It was a burning-pancakes-seaside-holidays-pillow-forts-on-rainy-days look, which perhaps he had seen before but neither of them, apparently, had interpreted correctly. “Oh,” he said softly, and blushed under Harry’s keen gaze.

The tender moment was interrupted by Lucius coughing lightly. “Yes, well, under the circumstances perhaps we can dispense with worrying about Potter’s financial situation,” he gruffed to universal snickers. Everyone knew Harry was one of the richest men in wizarding Britain, same as Lucius himself. “However,” he continued, “In order for the courting to be completed, the suitor needs to present four gifts. As per our oldest traditions, they should represent earth, wind, fire and water.” Lucius looked at Harry curiously. The young man was obviously standing in only his own clothing. He would have to produce gifts out of fresh air, using only his magic. Lucius gestured with his wand, and another small table appeared. Harry looked over at the three tables laden with gifts, and whistled.

“Is that a bloody island?” he asked Draco, sotto voice. Titters sounded around them. Draco laughed softly, now standing so close to Harry that it was easy for Harry to take his hand and cuddle him close. “Okay,” said Harry more loudly. “Let’s see what I can think of.” Draco rolled his eyes expressively, and Harry laughed. “I know, I know, I’m hopeless, darling. Let me have a go anyway,” he beseeched, suddenly serious, and Draco huffed, but nodded fondly.

Harry stepped to the table thoughtfully. “I remember a story someone told me,” he murmured, and waved his bare hand. Gasps sounded, as most people didn’t know that Harry didn’t really bother to use a wand anymore. Wandlessly, wordlessly, Harry conjured a small fishbowl. From one of the arrangements on another table, he plucked a lily. Draco was watching him quizzically, but accepted a single lily petal from Harry. When Draco set the petal into the water in the bowl, it turned into a lovely little goldfish in the same soft shades as the lily. It was beautiful magic. The delicacy and precision were at odds with Harry’s brute power, and though there was a little smattering of applause, most people looked confused. Everyone had been expecting something big and showy from the most powerful wizard in Britain. Harry held Draco’s hand again. “My mother gave this as a gift to someone a long time ago. The gift had no significance, it wasn’t important, but it’s one of the few stories I have about her that are just about who she was, you know?” Draco’s eyes filled with tears, and he gave a watery nod.

“Thank you,” he choked out. “It’s beautiful.” Harry drew him forward and gently kissed his cheek.

“Okay. Earth! Um… earth?” Harry was patting his pockets and looking a little panicked, but to their surprise, Teddy piped up again.

“I’ve got something!” he cried, digging in his pockets. Everyone stood around awkwardly for a few moments, until Teddy came up holding some rubber bands, half a Muggle muesli bar, and a rock. Lucius’ face was a picture, and even Narcissa’s fond gaze was a little strained. But Draco and Harry both melted immediately, and Harry went to his knees before the little boy.

“Are you sure, Teddy-bear?” he asked tenderly. Teddy nodded vigorously. Harry took the rock from his sticky hands carefully, and brushed some muesli crumbs off. It was just a small pebble, whitish lines on one side, blackish lines on the other, and all over grey and unimpressive. “Do you remember?” asked Harry, holding the rock out to Draco.

“Of course I do!” murmured Draco, his eyes very watery. “That lovely weekend in Cornwall. We found this in the rockpools.”

“And you got sunburned all over!” added Teddy loudly and helpfully.

“Yes, Teddy-bear, thank you,” laughed Draco. “Are you sure you want to give this to me, dearest?” Teddy’s hair turned from black curls to platinum before their eyes.

“I’m Harry’s godson,” he said anxiously. “If you marry him, we’ll always be together, right?”

Draco nodded vigorously, and knelt to cuddle Teddy close. “Yes, dearest, always and always,” he promised. A snort behind Harry reminded them of the many people milling around them. Ron Weasley had been healed and fixed up by his wife, and was ready to mock Harry again.

“I think Teddy just proposed for you, mate,” he grinned. Harry slapped his own forehead and everyone was smiling, Teddy and Draco widest of all. However Lucius harrumphed again.

“The courtship ritual…” he said pointedly.

“Of course!” cried Harry. “I’ve got a great idea for air!” He dashed over to one of the other tables. Fawley was surprised, but allowed Harry to examine the two beautiful brooms laid out. “May I borrow these?” asked Harry cheekily. “I promise I’ll return them.” Fawley grinned back, and shrugged.

“Consider them a wedding gift,” he said, his loud voice carrying easily to the crowd, who cooed in approval. Harry thanked him and came back to Draco carrying his prizes. Draco crossed his arms and tried to look cross.

“You can’t just steal someone else’s gift and present it to me!” he said, in a good imitation of irritation.

“This isn’t the gift,” said Harry excitedly. “This is!” Harry reached into his pocket and produced a snitch. Draco looked confused. The snitch was one Harry often carried in his pocket. It wasn’t special or different, not like the _other_ snitch. Harry just played with it sometimes. Draco watched as Harry held it up, grinned with sparkling challenge in his eyes, and let it go. The snitch flew away a few inches, seemingly waiting for Harry to catch it like he usually did. But Harry was mounting his broom, while throwing the other at Draco. The blonde almost dropped it in surprise, but quickly mounted it to growing cheers from Teddy and protests from nearly everyone else, especially Narcissa who was looking around her ballroom in alarm. The entire room was full of fancy, old, and most importantly, expensive items. Before she could forbid them, Draco and Harry were off. The snitch had already disappeared into the high ceiling of the cavernous room. Both men flew a quick practice drill, getting used to the high-powered brooms. Fawley and Ron had joined Teddy in cheering, and indeed Ron had the child up on his shoulders so he could get the best view of the rolling, speeding flyers. Hermione had joined Narcissa in exhorting them to come down, while Lucius slumped to a chair in seeming despair. Andromeda was laughing and chatting with Arthur and Molly who had arrived at some point in the proceedings. As Harry and Draco pulled up at opposite sides of the ballroom ceiling, more Weasleys entered the ballroom, much to Lucius’ obvious displeasure.

He didn’t get a chance to protest verbally however, as the laughter and taunting between the men above gave way to a proper snitch hunt between two unmatched Seekers. The audience below oohed and aahed, clapping and cheering for every clever maneuver and daring stunt that the relatively cramped quarters of the ballroom necessitated. Harry accidentally kicked some molding off, and left Auror boot prints on a wall thirty feet in the air. Draco bumped into a chandelier and splattered his beautiful silver robes in hot wax. Excitement was rising. Suddenly Draco seemed to flatten himself against the broom, flying full tilt directly at Harry. Recovering quickly from his surprise, Harry looked around himself but could see nothing. In seconds, Draco was upon him, then flew over his head to the very recesses of the ceiling. In a corner behind a small gilded chandelier hid the golden snitch. Unable to fly his broom into the corner, with split seconds to make a decision, Draco leapt off the broom and simultaneously caught the fluttering ball. His triumph was short lived as he started to fall, while the audience below gasped and shouted. In seconds more, Harry flew beneath Draco and caught him, the entire weight of the blonde hitting the broom and sending it into a tail spin to the ground. The people on the ground scattered, crying out. Somehow Harry managed to roll off the broom with Draco in his arms, Seeker-quick reflexes on both men keeping them mostly upright. Draco was laughing uproariously, his arm raised in triumph, the snitch fluttering weakly in his fingers. He was rumpled and sweaty, his pretty robes ruined and his hair escaping the braid. Harry was grinning in absolute delight, and a moment later swept Draco into his arms for a thorough snog. Gasps and applause sounded in the ballroom, and Lucius leapt to defend his son’s honour. Even as he came forward, shouting at Potter to unhand Draco this instant, Harry waved his arm, raising a circle of fire around the kissing men and obscuring them from sight. The crowd broke into louder applause and whistling.

After a few moments the fire died down and disappeared, and Draco reappeared looking thoroughly kissed and a little dazed. Harry grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Fire,” he said to Lucius cheerfully. His future father in law looked positively murderous, but Draco was clinging to Harry’s strong waist with a besotted smile and Harry didn’t care about anything else. Teddy raced back to Harry, and it was with the child in one arm and Draco in the other that Harry watched Narcissa light another silver fire cracker. This one burned out unimpeded and everyone cheered as Draco bestowed another kiss upon his future husband.

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, just me and fluff. :)


End file.
